


Easy

by Rocky_T



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/pseuds/Rocky_T
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Decisions, decisions...Set shortly after "Workforce" in season 7. Written in 2002.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easy

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Seema for the beta.

Dark. Cold. Hard.

The first sensory impressions filtered into her sleep-befuddled brain. She stifled a groan as rocks dug into her spine. She shifted position, trying to get comfortable, a nearly impossible feat. Her head nestled against something soft and yielding and she relaxed, then stiffened as full memory flooded back.

The soft surface beneath her head was the hollow of Chakotay's shoulder. They had slept huddled together on the cave floor to conserve body heat. The blue-gray of his Starfleet-issue T shirt filled most of her vision; his jacket lay atop them both. He was still asleep, his chest rising and falling with regular deep breaths. She stopped moving, afraid her tentative rustlings would disturb him. She held her breath, despite the particularly sharp stone stabbing into her leg. He was still asleep. She exhaled in relief. 

She tried not to think about the circumstances that had led them here, the away mission gone awry that had necessitated their flight into the hills, about the bleak circumstances now awaiting them. No food, no water, no way of contacting the ship for now, no chance of returning to the village in the plains as long as the hostile search parties were looking for them. Their best bet was to keep moving, to higher elevations. Once they got above the snow-line--far enough away from the kalocite ores jamming their comm signals--they might be able to contact Voyager. Provided they didn't starve or freeze to death first.

She bit back a sigh, and closed her eyes once more, wishing she could lose herself in the oblivion of sleep. She also didn't want to think about the idiocy that had led her and her first officer to be on this mission together. Once again, events had worked out in such a way as to hammer home the necessity for the Starfleet protocol that frowned on the top ranking officers leaving the ship at the same time. Never mind that it was more custom than regulation, and was frequently ignored when convenient. Back in the Alpha Quadrant, that is; in the Delta Quadrant things were different. Every time she and Chakotay had gone on the same away mission, something invariably happened. The insect-borne virus that had necessitated their being left behind on New Earth. The shuttle crash and her near-death experience with the alien pretending to be her father who tried to draw her into his matrix. And now this.

Chakotay slept on. No light filtered in from the entrance of the cave. There were still a few hours to go till sunrise, till they could be on their way once more. She told herself to relax, to get some more rest while she still could. But her mind refused to let go, instead returning to the same dire thoughts over and over again.

She tried to snap herself out of it, draw on her natural reserve of optimism. They would make it. The enemy troops hadn't found them after a full day. As more time elapsed, it was increasingly probable the search would be abandoned as a waste of resources. (She fervently hoped the other members of the away mission had managed to escape as well.) As she and Chakotay continued ascending into the hills, the chances were great that they would find a source of water, and possibly even food. They would eventually make contact with the ship--and then this crisis would be behind them.

But her reserves had worn thin from countless other crises over the past seven years, most recently the imprisonment of nearly the entire crew of Voyager on Quarra. Though at least on that planet, their memories supressed, she and the others had had a chance to live a normal life. A more normal one, at any rate, than they could have aboard the ship, plunging continuously from one dangerous situation to the next. 

A wave of depression and anxiety overwhelmed her. She stifled a sob. How much longer could she keep on going like this? And even if they made it through this time, what about the next? The law of averages was against them. It was only a matter of time until death triumphed after all.

She concentrated on her breathing, controlling it, slowing it, willing herself to calm down. In, out, in, out. If only it were as easy to control the thoughts spinning in her brain.

She moved her head slightly and felt Chakotay's breathing catch. She froze and then felt his arms tighten around her, the cadence of his breathing resume once more. 

It occurred to her that it would be so easy to just turn slightly in his arms, press herself against his welcoming warmth. To run her fingertips lightly over the contours of his face and jaw, to find his lips with her own. She had no doubts as to what her reception would be. She knew, deep down, how he felt about her, how he'd always felt about her.

Yes, it would be so easy. To feel him with her in body and spirit, to forget, for a brief moment in time, the difficulties that faced them. To soar as effortlessly as a bird, buoyed on the wings of his love...and then to settle back to an earth-bound existence, once more constrained by the limits of gravity.

And afterwards it would not be so easy. To add yet another layer of complication to an already complicated existence. All the arguments, all the reasons for not getting involved with her first officer, for not allowing herself to make anyone on her crew more important to her on a personal plane--all those would return in full force, made even harder by her momentary lapse. She knew how he felt about her now, but would he feel used, betrayed, abandoned--would she at last succeed in destroying the last vestiges of his love, already worn thin by time?

It would be much easier to ignore this fleeting impulse to turn to him for comfort, to create a situation which she had no business creating, one which she would never be able to follow through. Much easier to simply close her eyes, will herself to sleep for another few hours till daylight, to carry on as she had for seven long years.

He shifted position next to her, and she heard a soft sigh. She turned slightly and saw that his eyes were open. He was watching her expectantly. And all at once she realized that she had never been one for taking the easy way out.


End file.
